


Hatred and Loathing

by Llybian



Series: Summer Nights [24]
Category: Slayers (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Let's argue semantics!, Professor Xellos teaches vocabulary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:29:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29224725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llybian/pseuds/Llybian
Summary: “I loathe you,” she informed him, packing as much buzzing animosity as she could into those three little words.He didn’t smile at her—his expression was more thoughtful. “You don’t really, you know,” he finally answered her after a moment.“I most certainly do!” Filia answered forcefully.“No,” Xellos said, idly tapping his glass as Filia’s hot tea was placed in front of her. “You may hate me, but you don’t loathe me.”
Relationships: Filia Ul Copt/Xellos
Series: Summer Nights [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/796563
Kudos: 12





	Hatred and Loathing

Filia sat on the very edge of the stone perimeter around a bubbling fountain. She didn’t want to get her cloak wet, but the cool spray in the air felt nice as it hit her face. The fountain was tucked away from the crowded center of the town she and the others had stopped in and was surrounded mostly by cafes and restaurants thin on customers in the middle of the afternoon. She couldn’t have possibly staked out a better space to relax between the soothing wash of the water, the sunshine, and the far-enough-removed hum of shoppers beyond the square. Nevertheless as she looked into the coin flecked bottom of the fountain, she couldn’t help feeling dissatisfied.

“Maybe,” she said sourly to herself, “it’s because Miss Lina took the last of my money and ran off to that all-you-can-eat buffet, so I don’t even have a single coin left to make a wish with.”

Her hand strayed to the satchel that had once contained the meager salary the temple had provided her with and now only contained lint and a bit of quartz she’d found on the ground and absentmindedly picked up. _But what would I wish for_ , she wondered, _if I had a coin?_

Well, she couldn’t help but realize, there were a lot of things she could wish for. First and foremost she could wish that Miss Lina, Mister Gourry, and Miss Amelia would look up from their culinary tour and realize that they couldn’t afford to sample every item in every restaurant in _every_ town they stopped in, mend their ways, become fiscally responsible, and perhaps take up some sort of ascetic philosophy that meant eating only very tiny amounts.

…But that was downright unlikely.

She could wish that Mister Zelgadis would quit threatening librarians at sword point until they showed him their rarest books so that she could browse the serials at her leisure without having to worry about being kicked out of places. She could wish that the temple in its theoretically infinite wisdom would give her more money to fund this high-priority mission. She could wish for strength to avert the threatened destruction of the world. She could wish for a clue to the next Dark Star weapon. She could wish to find out whether or not what Valgaav had said about her people was true.

She could wish to find out what Xellos was up to in all of this. She could wish to find out where exactly he was right now and what he was doing. She could wish that he’d stop being so _obnoxious_ all the time. She could wish that if he was going to go away then he’d at least give them fair warning about it and tell when he’d be back. She could wish that he’d quit with that high and mighty attitude all the time and stop making it seem like everything was always her fault. She could wish that he wouldn’t always have that insufferable grin on his face. She could wish that something terrible would happen to his hair. She could—

She paused and unclenched her teeth. That was… probably too much wishing about Xellos anyway. But still! It irked her! Wasn’t everything else they had to deal with bad enough without having him popping unexpectedly in and as unexpectedly out without even doing them the courtesy of letting them know anything? She didn’t know how he did it, but sometimes she thought Xellos managed to be _more_ annoying when he was gone than when he was actually around.

Not that she wanted him back or anything. It was just… was a little consistency and communication really too much to ask?

“Miss, might I have an extra lemon wedge and a glass of ice?” an ingratiating voice from nearby asked.

Filia whipped her head around with the same _whoosh_ as a pipe being swung through the air.

There he was! He must’ve known they were in this town but he was taking his sweet time before he let them know he was back—just kicking back on a café patio drinking an iced tea without telling them a single thing!

She stormed over. “Xellos!” she shrieked.

“Oh, hello there, Filia,” he said mildly as she approached his table. “Could I treat you to a drink? I’m sure the dragon race hasn’t parted with anything more than the absolute minimum amount to cover your expenses, and I can afford to be a little less miserly even for the likes of you.”

“Shut up,” she ordered him, but because she was thirsty she turned toward the (somewhat frustrated looking) waitress and said: “I’ll have a cup of cinnamon tea,” before sitting down across from the hated monster and directing her attention back toward him. “Don’t pretend you know anything about the financial policies of my people—and that’s beside the point anyway. Where have you _been?_ ”

Xellos smiled and took a drink from the thin black straw rising from his beverage. “That’s…” he began.

“Forget I asked,” Filia cut across him, denying him the pleasure of getting to say his trademarked phrase.

“Well, what did you expect, Filia?” he asked as the waitress came back with Xellos’s iced tea accoutrements. “Am I supposed to confess all my secrets to you? I didn’t know we’d gotten that close.”

“We’re not close,” Filia snapped. “We’ve never been close and we’ll never be close.”

“I suppose I shouldn’t doubt the mighty divination powers of a golden dragon,” Xellos said, leaving the extra items he’d asked for untouched—they’d only been requested because annoying the wait-staff was a little hobby of his, “but given your level of incompetence, I think I will anyway.”

Filia sputtered and fumed. She hated the mild-mannered way he answered her. _She_ was ready to jump out of her skin, but _he_ was replying to her comments like he was just taking his turn in a pleasant game that he had a clear advantage in. She lived for the moments when he was lost for a response, when a twitch fidgeted from under his temples, and when his hands unconsciously became fists. Those were too few and too far between though. Most of the time _she’d_ have to hold herself back from tackling him and _he’d_ just laugh at her.

What she wanted now was a comeback—something like the kind he threw at her without apparent effort. There’d be a pretense at manners with an undercurrent of hostility and a finely crafted barb that would not just sting and provoke anger, but do so _insistently_. Perhaps there’d even be a confusing spin—an insinuation only half-expressed to turn over in her mind again and again long after she wanted to stop thinking about it.

She couldn’t think of any such comment, so she forwent the bells and whistles and delivered her point undisguised. “I _loathe_ you,” she informed him, packing as much buzzing animosity as she could into those three little words.

He didn’t smile at her—his expression was more thoughtful. “You don’t really, you know,” he finally answered her after a moment.

“I most certainly do!” Filia answered forcefully.

“No,” Xellos said, idly tapping his glass as Filia’s hot tea was placed in front of her. “You may hate me, but you don’t loathe me.”

Filia scowled. Xellos was just splitting hairs now—stupid purple hairs. “Those mean the same thing!”

Xellos tutted and waved his finger in her face. “Silly Filia,” he said, “don’t you know that there’s no such thing as a _true_ synonym?”

Filia crossed her legs and took a too-hasty swig of her tea. She tried to pretend she hadn’t scalded herself as she demanded mockingly: “ _Fine_ , Professor Xellos, then what’s supposed to be the difference between hatred and loathing?”

“Well,” Xellos said thoughtfully, perhaps wishing he had a chalkboard on which to make his point, “they’re obviously rather similar concepts, as you’ve noted. Both are characterized by intense dislike.”

“And I do dislike you,” Filia cut in because she could, “ _intensely.”_

“I’ve noticed,” he said, annoyed at the interruption. “The difference here is how that disapproval is manifest. Loathing is a sort of dry, cold attitude, whereas hatred is characterized by _passionate_ dislike.”

“So…” Filia began, trying to get to the meat of his implication, “you’re saying I don’t loathe you because I dislike you passionately?”

“You’re passionate in general,” Xellos commented as though sharing a cherished observation, “but particularly toward me.”

Filia glared at him. She certainly didn’t like the sound of that. “In the most negative way possible,” she added as a qualifier.

“Of course, Filia,” Xellos said in his most obvious ‘I’m humoring you’ tone, “but that does point to the most important difference between loathing and hatred. Loathing is a repelling force while hatred is an attracting one. _That’s_ the real tell that you don’t loathe me. You’re certainly not repulsed by me.”

Filia didn’t know where he got "certainly." Probably from the same place of ego-centric madness that convinced him pageboys and cheap staffs were at the height of fashion. “I am so repulsed by you,” she answered venomously, “because you’re _repulsive!_ ”

“No, you’re attracted to me,” Xellos corrected with a patient smile, “because I’m attractive.”

Filia nearly knocked over her tea when she collapsed face first onto the table in a fit of exasperated fury. The silverware rattled dangerously as she pounded her fist over and over into the tabletop. _Ego-centric madness was right!_

“What could _possibly_ make you think something so ridiculous and obviously untrue?!” she demanded.

“It’s not the least bit ridiculous,” Xellos chided. He gave her a would-be sympathetic look. “You don’t need to feel ashamed of it. It’s perfectly understandable.”

She was getting a tension headache from gritting her teeth. She stood up in a huff and let out an exasperated groan. “I’m not ashamed of anything because that’s not _true!_ ” She put her hands on her hips and looked him squarely in the eye. “I don’t know where you get your illusions, but for your information I find every single, solitary, tiny aspect of you completely and utterly repulsive, you worthless pile of trash!”

Xellos responded to her tirade with an unaffected shrug. “If that’s true, then why are you here?” he asked.

Filia froze. “What?”

“If you’ll recall, I didn’t initiate this little conversation,” Xellos pointed out placidly. “If you really loathed me then you could’ve kept your sad perch on the edge of the fountain or left the area altogether. I’m entirely avoidable at the moment, so if I was truly so revolting to you then you could’ve easily opted out of dealing with me and feeling my presence. Instead, you couldn’t help but choose to join me—as near as possible. You are _attracted_ to me.”

Filia opened her mouth to let out a disbelieving sound. A reply to such a feeble line of reasoning had to be easy enough to come up with, right? So… why couldn’t she manage one?

“I just wanted to be angry at you up close,” she responded in what she knew was a poor excuse.

Xellos smiled. “Up close is the point,” he answered.

“Well, I don’t need to be up close,” Filia snapped, snatching up her cup of tea. “You’re right about one thing—you _are_ avoidable right now. So I’m just going to go off and finish my tea in better company: my own!”

“You do that, Filia,” he replied blithely.

She clomped over to a table on the patio that was as far away from him as it was possible to be without leaving the eating area entirely. She slammed down her cup of tea, much of which sloshed on the table as a result, swept her cloak out dramatically, and sat down.

Across the patio, Xellos muttered quietly to himself: “Five, four, three, two…”

Filia’s chair creaked as she got up and strode back over to him purposefully, her tea forgotten at the table. “Well, I don’t see what difference it makes if I’m here or there! I despise you as much up close as I do from a distance. So leaving you alone would just be letting you get away with everything!”

Xellos snickered unkindly and leaned back in his chair which provoked a new eruption of fury from Filia. “Stop laughing!” she commanded.

“Oh, it’s alright, Filia,” Xellos said, leaning forward once more and ceasing his laughter. “There’s no need to be so tense. After all, it’s not as though your feelings are unrequited.”

Filia took a startled step backwards. “What are you—”

“That’s right, Filia,” Xellos said, getting up and subjecting her to the full intensity of his stare. The reached out and clasped the still stunned dragon’s hands and held them in his. Then, in a voice overflowing with tender, heartfelt passion he confessed: “ _I hate you too_.”

A shiver rattled around Filia’s spine for a few. She drew back and hugged her arms around her body, her stance and expression radiating deepest horror.

“Is there a problem?” Xellos asked with innocent interest.

“Of course there’s a problem!” Filia snapped, but her voice was rather panicky. “Your words are saying one thing but your tone is saying something _entirely and terrifyingly different!_ ”

“Oh?” Xellos pressed. “So… are you saying you _don’t_ think that you and I were meant to hate each other—truly, madly, and deeply—for all eternity?”

Filia struggled for a moment, unsure how to respond to what was being said, or, more accurately, the _way_ it was being said.

“…Or at least one night?” Xellos hinted.

Something flat-lined in Filia’s expression. The fists hanging from her side seemed to vibrate slightly. This wasn’t a volcanic eruption, but it would’ve been a good reason to start evacuating villages.

“Filia?” Xellos tried.

Filia drew in a breath as though preparing to go underwater for an unforeseeably long period of time. When she finished, she let out a ringing shout of: “GET AWAY FROM ME YOU DISGUSTING WEIRDO!” before running blindly off.

“Ah,” Xellos said at her retreating back, his tone somewhat deflated, “ _now_ you’re repulsed.”

Xellos watched her race off to the fountain she’d been camped out at before. She reached into the shallows and scooped out a handful of coins before flinging them back into the depths and adopting a prayerful gesture. Moves like that are generally frowned upon by whatever deities rule wishing fountains—but no doubt she felt her emergency wish justified the breach. He wondered if he should do something. He realized that he may have fumbled what had started out as promising by taking it too far.

He quickly decided not to worry about it. A little polarity shift wouldn’t change anything in the long run. He consoled himself that it was only temporary.

And sure enough, she was already turning around, pumping her arms furiously at her sides as she stamped back over to no doubt give him a piece of her mind.

She’d given him so many pieces of her mind that he was confident he’d have the whole thing before too long.


End file.
